


So Let's Make Things Physical

by colonel_bastard



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Competition, F/F, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colonel_bastard/pseuds/colonel_bastard
Summary: GoGo issues a challenge.  Callaghan accepts.  Tadashi must be dreaming.





	So Let's Make Things Physical

**Author's Note:**

> a belated christmas present for [my darling husband.](http://wuffen.tumblr.com/)
> 
> title is taken from [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9e9NSMY8QiQ) and YES i KNOW i have USED THIS SONG BEFORE but let's face it it's pretty much the most perfect song ever written about having a crush

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Callaghan walks into the lab just as all five of them start talking at once, each one trying to be heard over the others. Although the volume of the argument has been steadily increasing ever since it began, at Callaghan’s entrance the whole thing cuts off into abrupt silence, everyone looking awkwardly down at their shoes, mortified at being caught in the act. Callaghan raises his eyebrows. 

“Am I… interrupting something?”

“It’s nothing, Professor,” Wasabi blurts out. “Just a little, uh… hypothetical debate.” 

“Oh?” Callaghan glances from face to flustered face. “Can I be of any assistance?”

“Um… actually…” Honey Lemon fidgets with the hem of her top. “It’s not really a…. scientific... issue.” 

Now Callaghan’s expression turns mildly puzzled. “I see.”

There’s an awkward beat as everyone tries to decide if they really want to drag their professor into the middle of all this or if they should just let the whole thing drop. Then GoGo, of course, steps forward and proudly stakes her claim. 

“I was just saying that no one in this room can do more push-ups than me.” 

And _of course_ , now that the bottle has been uncorked, everyone else’s opinions come spilling out in an unstoppable rush. 

“And _I_ was just saying,” Honey Lemon explains. “That I think Tadashi would be able to hold his own. He’s got all that lean muscle!”

“And I was just trying to say,” Tadashi scrambles to fill in. “That Honey is being very generous, but what she thinks is lean muscle is really just, uh... lean.” 

“I think I could do it!” Fred interjects. “I could totally do it! I bet I could do, like, a hundred push-ups, easy!”

“For the record,” Wasabi offers. “I think GoGo is right. She could totally kick all of our butts.” 

And there’s Callaghan, taking it all in with a look on his face that could best be described as _affectionate amusement._ Tadashi knows that a lot of the younger students at the Institute are intimidated by him, and maybe even a little afraid of him— hell, when Tadashi first started here he could barely look Callaghan in the eye. But really, he’s nowhere near as grim and serious as his reputation might suggest. And after all those late-night project consultations and one-on-one pep talks in the lab, he’s grown especially familiar with his Advanced Robotics class, so that sometimes he feels less like a professor and more like — as Fred so eloquently put it — “a really cool uncle.” Fred’s not even a _student_ ; Callaghan just took him under his wing with the rest of them. Tadashi actually overheard him talking with Fred once about the most aerodynamic ways to spin a sign. 

“Well,” Callaghan says. “It sounds to me like you’ve reached the end of the debate phase.” He points at GoGo with great solemnity. “It’s time to test that hypothesis, Miss Tomago.” 

Everyone exchanges uncertain looks, wondering if they’re all supposed to drop straight to the floor and start counting off reps. Then, cool as a cucumber, Callaghan shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it over the back of the nearest chair. In the stunned silence that follows, he proceeds to undo the buttons on his shirt cuffs and start rolling up his sleeves. 

Honey Lemon claps both hands over her mouth, her voice pitched high in giddy realization. “Professor…?”

“You did say _no one in this room,_ ” Callaghan says mildly, finishing one sleeve and moving on to the next. “I believe I qualify under those parameters.” 

Wasabi, Honey Lemon, and Fred let out a perfect three-part chorus of “ _ohhhhhh!_ ” in the same tone of scandalized delight as a group of kids hearing a beloved authority figure say a swear word for the first time. Tadashi doesn’t join in. His brain is too busy short-circuiting as he attempts to process the fact that Robert Callaghan is actually _offering_ to drop to the floor and perform a set of push-ups _right in front of him._ He barely manages to turn his head with the rest of his classmates as they all swivel towards GoGo to gauge her reaction to the challenge. 

At first she seems just as stupefied as the rest of them. Then her dazed expression is eclipsed by a fierce, fearless grin. 

“Parameters met,” she says. “Let’s do this.” 

“Oh ho ho,” Fred chortles. “It is _on_ like _Donkey Kong!_ ”

As GoGo slips out of her leather jacket, Tadashi and Honey Lemon make eye contact, their lips moving soundlessly as they stage-whisper to each other out of the competitors’ line of sight. 

Honey Lemon mouths: “ _Don’t die._ ”

Tadashi mouths back: “ _Bury me with my Treasure Planet DVD._ ”

“All right,” says Callaghan, and then their classroom habits kick in and they’re all instinctively eyes forward. 

Callaghan has his sleeves rolled up past his elbows, exposing the burly forearms that Tadashi has gushed about to Honey Lemon on far too many occasions to count. GoGo is wearing a tank top that shows off her muscular shoulders and biceps, which, coincidentally, Honey Lemon has gushed about to Tadashi on an equal number of occasions. With a courteous nod, Callaghan indicates for GoGo to take the lead. 

“This is your experiment, Miss Tomago,” he says. “You set the conditions.”

“I say we do this the old-fashioned way,” she replies, cracking her knuckles. “Direct competition. First one to drop out loses.” 

“Fair enough,” Callaghan says, and then he’s getting down on his hands and knees and Tadashi actually has to bite his tongue to keep himself from yelling. 

The two opponents take parallel positions on the floor, side by side with their hands on the same invisible line, allowing for easy eye contact if they turn their heads. By unspoken agreement, Wasabi deputizes himself and stands in front of them, raising one finger and declaring, “okay, on my mark.” Fred makes an inarticulate noise of excitement and taps his fingers together in anticipation. Tadashi doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until he looks at Honey Lemon again and she mouths, “ _breathe._ ” He exhales in a rush just as Wasabi says, “three, two, one, _go!_ ”

And they’re off. 

Tadashi is always amazed by the speed at which really fit people can perform push-ups. Right away Callaghan and GoGo start pumping up and down like a pair of pistons, swift and seemingly effortless. The first few reps aren’t quite in harmony— Tadashi can tell that Callaghan is letting GoGo set the tempo, and once she hits her rhythm he falls into place beside her, matching her beat for beat. Fred lets out an ecstatic cheer while Wasabi remarks under his breath, “ahhhh, perfect sync.” Honey Lemon has her hands clasped over her heart and a big dopey smile on her face that says _look at my baby go._ Although he’s trying not to show it, Tadashi is thinking the exact same thing. 

So far it seems to be a remarkably even match. Both GoGo and Callaghan are maintaining a steady, crisp rhythm, their pacing as identical as two chambers in the same beating heart. Tadashi feels like he’s being hypnotized, riveted by the sight of Callaghan going up and down, up and down, metronomic and precise. God, the amount of control he must have. He doesn’t even look out of breath. 

And it’s not just Tadashi that’s going into a daze. All of the spectators have gotten a little bit lost in the tempo, their heads bobbing as they follow the action, making them look like they’re all jamming to some bass-heavy club music that only they can hear. They’re so lulled by the cadence that the change makes them all jump in surprise. 

With no warning, Callaghan pushes up hard, lifts his hands from the floor, and executes a sharp, stunning clap. 

They’re all too stunned to realize what just happened. Callaghan gets his hands back under him on the way down, catching his weight and pushing back up again with the same force, nailing another clap that launches the peanut gallery into rapturous exclamations of amazement and glee. This is ridiculous. Honestly Tadashi is expecting to wake up from this dream at any moment, because here he is, not only watching Callaghan breeze through some seriously powerhouse pushups, but watching him _show off_ while doing so.

When he and Honey Lemon make eye contact, she mouths “ _oh my god_.” At the same instant Tadashi mouths “ _no fucking way._ ” Yeah. This definitely has to be a dream.

“Really?” GoGo smirks. She’s only just starting to break a sweat. “Is that really how you wanna do this?”

On her next rep, she nimbly pops her hands up into a clap that rings like a bell. She catches herself and bounces right back up again like the floor is a trampoline. _Clap._ The peanut gallery erupts in cheers, Honey Lemon yelling loudest of them all. 

From there the rhythm evolves, falling at last into an alternating pattern of claps, the sound passed back and forth between the competitors like the ball at a tennis match. _Clap. Clap. Clap._ Even under the sweater vest, Tadashi can see the muscles in Callaghan’s back and shoulders coiling like a spring on every rebound, not so much exerting effort as simply controlling and recycling the same unit of momentum over and over, his body rocking back and forth like a pendulum, pulled by its own gravity. That’s his tactic: stamina. 

GoGo has a different sort of strength. She’s as controlled and focused as the business end of a laser, her energy perfectly calibrated for maximum impact. She lets them carry on with the clapping for a little while, but even after only five or six reps, Tadashi can see something brewing in her eyes. She has an idea. Then she makes her move. 

“Okay, Professor,” she says. “You wanna shake it up? Let’s shake it up.” 

The clapping stops. GoGo sinks to the floor, breaking the rhythm just long enough to gather her weight over her right arm and fold her left arm behind her back. Centering herself, she stays down for the count of three before she rises all the way up into a full extension— a perfect one-armed push-up. And the crowd goes wild. 

And then, of course, all eyes immediately turn towards Callaghan in giddy expectation. 

He stops clapping but never stops doing push-ups, still matching GoGo’s count as he considers her little stunt. He even slows his tempo to match hers, following her down and back up as she does it again, one-armed, looking him right in the eye as she goes. He holds her gaze, his expression undeniably proud. 

Then, as they both dip down to the ground in harmony, Callaghan deftly tucks one arm behind him, his left hand curled into a fist that rests at the small of his back. His right hand fans out to better maintain his balance, his fingertips flexing against the floor like five tree roots grasping for purchase. And when GoGo pushes into her third rep, Callaghan rises up with her. 

“No _waaaaaay!_ ” Fred howls, clutching his face in amazement. 

“Wow,” Wasabi cocks his head. “Did not see that coming.” 

Honey Lemon reaches blindly for Tadashi’s arm and squeezes his bicep so hard that he feels it between his shoulder blades. Lucky thing, too— it has the much-needed effect of ejecting the breath he was holding and forcing him to take a deep, shaky inhale. His eyes are open so wide at this point that he’s kind of amazed they haven’t fallen right out of the front of his skull. He’s staring at the inside of Callaghan’s right forearm, at the muscles straining underneath the skin, easing him down to the floor and then up again into another full extension, slow and deliberate. There’s no recycling momentum for this trick. It’s all raw, concentrated strength. 

Tadashi imagines what it would be like to turn his head and see that arm braced against the wall beside him— _the bed beneath him_ — and it gives him such a wild surge of butterflies in his stomach that he actually covers his mouth to keep any embarrassing noises from bursting out. 

For a second there he has it all under control. Then on his next rep Callaghan gives an audible _grunt_ of effort and that’s it, Tadashi officially can’t handle this anymore, he has to look away and cough into his fist and then whisper the alphabet backwards into the palm of his hand while he begs his dick not to get hard. These skinny jeans are cruel and unforgiving and will hide nothing. Fucking fashion. _Fuck._

While he’s still staring fixedly into the corner, he hears GoGo laughing off to his right. 

“Okay, okay!” she pants. “Time out! Time.”

The quality of the air changes, like an electrical current switching off, a power source shutting down. They must have stopped doing push-ups. By the time Tadashi works up the nerve to finally allow himself to look back, he finds GoGo and Callaghan both sitting on the floor, both breathing the deep, restorative breaths of marathon runners. They’re wearing a matching pair of grins, each clearly impressed by the other. 

“Forgive me for taking liberties,” Callaghan says. “Increasing the level of difficulty seemed to be the next logical step to accelerate the process of elimination.”

“It was a good plan,” GoGo says. “I really thought I had you with that one-arm.” 

Callaghan wags a scolding finger. “Never judge a book by its cover, Miss Tomago.” He chuckles and gestures at himself. “No matter how old and dusty that cover may be.” 

Everyone laughs. There’s a funny sort of tension to the moment, like two combatants pausing for a friendly conversation in the middle of a boxing match, the atmosphere still electric with the thrill of competition. This isn’t over. Like any good scientists, they’re simply taking a step back to judge their progress so far. 

“This isn’t settling anything,” GoGo says. 

Callaghan nods. “It may be time to adapt the parameters of your experiment.”

While GoGo sits and ponders her next move, Callaghan takes the opportunity to grab the hem of his sweater vest and pull it off over his head, exhaling with relief as he does so. On instinct Tadashi does a surreptitious peek to see if his shirt came untucked in the back. It didn’t— and at this point that’s probably for the best, considering the fact that Tadashi is barely hanging on to his composure by a thread. He gets more than enough satisfaction just from the sight of Callaghan carefully folding the garment, tugging the corners into tidy alignment, running his palm over the woolly surface to press it smooth and flat. When he’s finished he holds it off to the side, then hesitates, frowning as he debates whether he wants to set it down on the floor. Tadashi wants to offer some assistance, but he’s too nervous and Wasabi beats him to the punch. 

“Here,” he says, stepping in and holding out a hand for the sweater vest. “I can take that, Professor.” 

Callaghan smiles and surrenders the garment. “Thank you. I’m afraid I didn’t come dressed for a workout.” 

“What do you need, sir?” Wasabi offers. “Sweatband? Clean undershirt? Fresh pair of—” he clears his throat. “—socks?”

“I’m all right,” Callaghan laughs. “I just need a moment.” 

A moment hardly seems like enough. Tadashi wishes he could freeze time, right here, right now, just to make that moment last and last. He’s not sure if he’s ever seen Callaghan look quite so… informal. No jacket, no tie, not even the sweater vest— he’s down to his shirtsleeves now, and the effect is as striking as seeing a soldier out of uniform. Tadashi doesn’t want to stare, but he doesn’t know where else to look, which evokes the same helpless confusion of not knowing what to do with his hands in a photograph. It also produces the same restless fidgeting, so his eyes end up darting from Callaghan to his classmates to the clock to the corner and back all over again. 

“Hey,” says GoGo, in a tone so direct that Tadashi almost jumps.

But she’s not talking to him. She’s talking to Honey Lemon, first with her finger pointed, then with her wrist turned so she can crook that finger in an enticing gesture. Honey lays both hands over her heart in an innocent ‘who, me?’ pose. GoGo laughs. 

“Yeah, you,” she says. “C’mere.” 

With a spring in her step, Honey trots obediently over to stand beside GoGo, where she towers over her like a lovely slender tree over a sturdy little boulder. GoGo makes no move to get up in greeting. Instead, she tosses her head to indicate that Honey should join her on the floor. The tone of her voice is playful and familiar. 

“Wanna go for a ride?”

The invitation prompts a startled hoot of amazement from Fred— but from Honey, its intended recipient, it evokes a fist pump and a very enthusiastic “ _yessssss!_ ” GoGo beckons for her, but Honey holds up one finger in the universal sign for _hang-on-just-a-second._ Then she tosses back her head and reaches back to gather her waterfall of golden hair into her hands. She moves with the practiced reassurance of someone who’s had long hair for a very long time, twisting and winding it with ease, the whole thing spiraling upwards until it’s been gathered into a quick, messy bun. And, like many people who have had long hair for a very long time, she keeps a hair tie on her wrist at all times, which she deploys now to contain the whole arrangement. It happens so fast and then it’s done, Honey spreading her arms to present herself with an unspoken _ta-da!_

“Okay!” she chirps. “I’m ready!” 

While the boys look on in a mix of confusion and curiosity, GoGo shifts her position until she’s lying on her belly, her ankles flexed so that her toes are braced on the floor, her hands placed up by her shoulders in preparation for another round of push-ups. This time, however, Honey Lemon swings one long leg up and over so that she’s standing over GoGo in a straddle. It’s still not entirely clear what they’re planning— until Honey lowers herself down until her front settles against GoGo’s back, her arms looping under GoGo’s and reaching up to clasp her shoulders. GoGo turns her head to give Honey a wink.

“Hang on,” she says. 

Then she turns her head back so she can lock eyes with Callaghan, who’s watching with raised eyebrows. When she looks at him, he nods his head and gestures for her to proceed with the demonstration. That’s when her smirk widens into a full-tilt grin. 

The final dramatic touch is when Honey Lemon lifts her feet off the floor, her ankles crossed demurely in the air. Her entire weight is now supported by GoGo’s back. 

And GoGo… goes. 

She takes off like a rocket, popping right up into a full extension like Honey weighs nothing, like it’s the first push-up she’s done today. Honey lets out a gleeful squeal, her grip tightening on GoGo’s shoulders with the fevered delight of someone grabbing the lap bar on a roller coaster. That only seems to bolster GoGo’s energy, and she sets in with a pace so quick and powerful that it very nearly matches the initial rapid tempo that began this experiment. Up and down they go, GoGo intense and focused, Honey giggling and cheering, her feet bobbing in exhilaration.

The reactions from the peanut gallery are as varied as they are endearing. Fred is wearing the shell-shocked expression of someone who had _no fucking clue_ that Darth Vader was Luke Skywalker’s father until he heard James Earl Jones say the line onscreen. Wasabi looks like he really wants to start a slow clap but is worried that no one will clap along with him. And when Tadashi glances over at Callaghan, he sees the warm smile of an Olympic coach watching his team take the gold.

No one even thinks to count the reps. GoGo just keeps powering through until she’s damn well sure she’s made her point. Then she lets herself collapse to the floor, bringing Honey down in a heap on top of her. They both crack up laughing as they untangle themselves, while Wasabi finally succumbs to his impulses and fucking goes for it with the slow clap. To his immense, visible relief, Callaghan joins in, and soon enough all four spectators are applauding. The girls can’t help but play along, and they both jump up to their feet to bow theatrically to their audience. Then GoGo points defiantly at Callaghan where he still sits on the floor. 

“Beat _that._ ”

By now Fred has lost any and all ability to speak coherently. He resorts to a series of garbled dinosaur noises to convey his enthusiasm for the idea. Callaghan, meanwhile, holds up both hands in an apologetic shrug. 

“I’m willing to make the attempt,” he says. “But I’m afraid I lack a critical component for this stage of the experiment.” He nods toward Honey Lemon. “The passenger.”

Honey waves away his concern. “That’s fine, Professor! I can do it. I don’t mind.” 

“Wait, hold on,” Wasabi interjects. “That wouldn’t be fair. The weight ratio is totally different.”

Fred immediately puts one hand in the air, three fingers raised in solidarity. “I volunteer as tribute!”

Wasabi winces. “Did you miss the part about the weight ratio? You’re about seven-pizzas-a-week too heavy.” 

“Are you saying I eat one whole pizza a day?” Fred snorts. “Because most days I definitely eat at least two.” 

“Hey,” GoGo interrupts. “What about Tadashi?”

Everyone turns to look at Tadashi while Tadashi looks at GoGo in barely-disguised alarm. She answers his wide eyes with a knowing wink. 

“Not too light, not too heavy. Just… lean.”

Tadashi wants to scream. It feels like someone is holding a blowtorch to the back of his neck. He can only hope and pray the blush doesn’t spread to his face. Wasabi, oblivious, is tapping his chin in thought, too wrapped up in the logistics of the situation to notice all the drama happening around it. 

“You know, I think the weight ratio checks out. Same height as Fred, but Tadashi is more—”

This time GoGo and Honey both crow it at the same time. “ _Lean!_ ”

“—slender,” Wasabi finishes. “I was going to say slender.” 

It’s happening way too fast. Tadashi doesn’t even have time to splutter out an excuse before GoGo slams one fist into the palm of her hand like a gavel slamming to the podium. 

“Parameters met!” she declares. “Professor, you are cleared to proceed to the next stage of the experiment— if you _dare._ ”

Still reeling, Tadashi manages to make eye contact with Callaghan, who looks up from the floor with a cocked head and a deferential smile. 

“How about it, Mr. Hamada?” he asks. “It would seem my reputation is at stake.” 

Tadashi gets the distinct sense that his heels are planted on the very edge of a skyscraper, his toes hanging out over thin air. If he leans forward he’s going to fall. Then he looks at Callaghan — sleeves rolled up and top button undone, a tendril of sweat-damp hair stuck to his forehead, his face as friendly and inviting as an open door — and remembers that he’s already falling, anyway. His own stunned expression gives way to a smile that breaks as slow and bright as a sunrise.

“Yeah, okay,” he says. “Let’s do this.” 

The peanut gallery cheers with approval from approximately a million miles away. Tadashi only has eyes and ears (and body and soul) for Robert Callaghan, who regards him now with a mixture of appreciation and... something else, something almost like... admiration. It’s as though he didn’t think Tadashi would actually agree to do it, and is now genuinely impressed that he did. A surge of fearlessness arcs down Tadashi’s spine like lightning. He thinks he could do just about anything if it meant Callaghan would look at him like that. 

“Ready when you are,” he says, and Callaghan nods. 

Tadashi’s first instinct is to get right down on the floor. It feels weird to be standing above Callaghan, to look down at him after so many years of figuratively and literally looking up. It’s even weirder to wait for Callaghan to get in position, to be allowed and even expected to watch while Callaghan turns over and stretches out his legs, offering Tadashi his broad, powerful back. Teetering on the very edge, Tadashi takes one last look at Honey Lemon for moral support. She gives him a double thumbs-up. 

Nothing left to do now but assume the position. With all the caution of someone stepping onto thin ice, Tadashi gingerly lifts one foot and hovers it in slow-motion across the span of Callaghan’s hips. For a split-second he can’t bring himself to put it down on the other side, and he wavers on one leg, flamingo-style, before finally planting his weight and ohhhhhhh my god this is really happening he’s straddling _Robert Callaghan_ and the next step is to actually _get on top of him._

He must hesitate for longer than he thought, because Callaghan glances back over his shoulder and prompts him.

“Ready when you are.” 

Tadashi gives a shaky exhale and jerks his chin down and up again in acknowledgement. It’s fine. All he has to do is let gravity take over. He’s spent such a long time resisting the urge to get close to Callaghan that it feels like suppressing a survival instinct, like he has to knock the supports out from behind both of his knees, bringing himself down like a controlled demolition. First one knee and then the other touches down, bracketing Callaghan’s legs between his own, his palms planted on either side of Callaghan’s torso. Then he stays there on his hands and knees, arched over Callaghan like a very awkward table. 

“You have to put your legs back,” Honey offers helpfully. 

“Yep,” Tadashi replies, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too strained. “I got it.” 

Lower and lower, inch by inch, and then all at once his chest touches down on Callaghan’s back and their bodies slot together like puzzle pieces. Tadashi sinks into him, his legs reaching back of their own accord, following the line of Callaghan’s legs on instinct. There’s a part of Tadashi that still holds his head up like he’s trying to keep his face above water, his palms still forming sweatprints on the floor. Then Callaghan gently takes one wrist, guiding Tadashi’s arm under his own, encouraging Tadashi to take hold of his shoulders. Tadashi obeys, which means there’s nothing holding him up anymore. The next thing he knows, his whole body is flush against Callaghan’s, his face only centimeters away from the crook of Callaghan’s neck. He really hopes Callaghan can’t feel his heart pounding through his ribcage. 

“Okay,” says Wasabi. “How are we gonna do this? How many reps did you do, GoGo?”

“Oh, I did plenty,” GoGo says. “But I’ll take five. Think you can do that, Professor?”

“Well,” Callaghan says with a chuckle that Tadashi can feel in his chest. “I think we’re all about to find out together.” 

Tadashi almost gasps when it happens— Callaghan’s body changes underneath him like an engine that’s just been ignited, the muscles going tense in anticipation, every inch of him thrumming like a race car waiting for the checkered flag. First Callaghan places his palms on the floor with his fingers spread out like before. After some consideration, he closes his hands and plants his fists instead, a minor alteration that’s so unexpectedly and astonishingly sexy that Tadashi actually bites his lip without thinking. He’s _reeeeeeeally_ glad that Callaghan can’t see him hiding the expression over his shoulder. 

For a second Callaghan hesitates. And in that second, Tadashi knows all at once that he’s not sure if he can do it. On a sudden impulse, he squeezes Callaghan’s shoulders and whispers into his ear. 

“C’mon,” he urges. “Let’s go.” 

Callaghan grunts a short laugh and answers under his breath. “If you insist.” 

Overwhelmed, Tadashi screws his eyes shut so he can concentrate completely on the sensation of Callaghan’s back and shoulders shifting underneath him. Callaghan coils, exhales, and then on a sharp inhale pushes upwards with all the sudden force of a breaking wave, one that slams into Tadashi at tsunami levels. He can’t keep himself from exclaiming in surprise and amazement as his toes and elbows get yanked right off the ground, his ears ringing with the eruption of cheers from his classmates. 

And just like that, his entire weight is now being supported by Callaghan’s back. Tadashi only has a split-second to process what’s happening before the wave recedes. Callaghan sinks down, exhaling as he goes, already preparing to swing his momentum back up again when he reaches the floor. 

“Yes!” Tadashi gives his shoulders another encouraging squeeze. “You got this!”

The second time is even better than the first. This time Tadashi keeps his eyes open— that way he can stare at Callaghan’s forearms, god, they’re _gorgeous,_ and they’re so _hairy_ up close, and god, _god,_ he smells so _good._ They’re really picking up speed now, Callaghan finding his pace, dipping down and pushing into a third rep like it’s nothing. Tadashi settles his body snugly against Callaghan’s back, savoring the damp heat between Callaghan’s shoulder blades and the sharp, salty smell of the sweat-soaked hair plastered to the nape of his neck. He can feel Callaghan breathing, hard but steady. He’s pacing himself. 

Still, it might not be enough. On his fourth rep, Callaghan’s arms give a treacherous shake, the rhythm of his breath skipping a beat. He’s forced to hold the extension, his arms too unsteady for the descent. Tadashi holds his breath, willing himself to become feather-light, doing his level best not to move a single muscle. 

The peanut gallery has fallen into a breathless hush. Then, trembling with effort, Callaghan unlocks his elbows and slowly, carefully sinks back towards the ground. He’s going too slow, the momentum draining out of him, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. 

He’s not going to try for a fifth rep. Tadashi can feel him surrendering to gravity, letting himself be borne down to the floor. 

But he was so _close_. 

Tadashi won’t allow it. Determined, he clutches Callaghan’s shoulders, giving him an insistent shake. 

“Don’t you dare stay down,” he whispers, soft enough that only Callaghan will hear. “I’m not giving up on you.” 

Almost to the floor, Callaghan hesitates. His head drops forward and his exhale ends in a soft puff of breathless amusement. 

Then, with a tremendous heave of effort, he shoves himself back upwards one last time. Tadashi gives a triumphant whoop when he sees Callaghan’s arms reach full extension— _He did it. He fucking did it._ The crowd goes wild. And for one incredible instant, Tadashi feels weightless in every possible sense. 

It can’t last. Gravity reaches up and grabs hold of them both, yanking them back down to the floor like two satellites entering the atmosphere. They tumble into a heap of tangled limbs, which Tadashi may or may not prolong for longer than necessary before reluctantly allowing himself to be sorted out and separated. Then they’re sitting side by side on the floor while the others gather around them in a flurry.

“Holy shit!” Fred splutters. “Hooooooo-ly _shiiiiiiiit!_ ”

Honey claps and cheers. “Oh my gosh, that was amazing!”

Breathing hard, Callaghan nods in acknowledgement of their praise, but his gaze is directed respectfully towards the arbiter of the experiment. GoGo stands with her arms crossed and one hip popped, looking down at the results with a critical eye. Slowly, magnanimously, she extends one hand, then grins and turns it into a thumbs-up. 

“Professor Callaghan,” she says. “I think I’d call that a draw.” 

“Miss Tomago,” he says, hoarse from exertion. “I accept your results.”

“Did that just happen?” Fred wonders, dazed. “Did that really just happen?”

The spectators break off into excited chatter, Wasabi and Fred gesticulating wildly while Honey stands with one arm looped casually over GoGo’s shoulders, GoGo’s arm settled comfortably around Honey’s waist. 

Tadashi looks over at Callaghan and grins. Callaghan, still breathing hard, nevertheless manages to smile back. Then he turns aside to cough into the crook of his elbow, chasing it down with a deep, steadying breath. Tadashi leans towards him in concern. 

“You okay, Professor?”

“I’ll be all right,” Callaghan fans away his worry. “I just need to slow down a bit.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “You should feel my heart rate. It’s, ah, a bit faster than I’m used to these days.” 

They’re so close. Tadashi can still feel the phantom heat of Callaghan’s back against his chest. He can still smell him. And on a sudden, insane impulse, fueled and emboldened by this abrupt onslaught of physical intimacy, Tadashi reaches out and lays two fingers against the side of Callaghan’s neck. His fingertips find the carotid pulse with expert precision. After all, he’s spent the past six months programming a medical robot. He’s a fucking pro. And after flying like that, he’s fucking fearless. 

Callaghan goes very still beneath his touch. He makes no attempt to move away. If anything, he barely, almost imperceptibly, leans into it, all while holding Tadashi’s gaze with his own. Tadashi holds his fingers in place for the full ten seconds, his own heart rate accelerating in response when he feels Callaghan’s pulse hammering underneath his fingertips, fast and forceful but steady as a high-tempo metronome. 

“Yeah,” Tadashi says, amazed by how level he manages to keep his voice. “That is pretty fast. You should probably take it easy for a while.” 

“Oh?” Callaghan arches one eyebrow. “Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Hamada?”

Tadashi teeters at the edge. It would be so easy. They’re already face to face. His hand is already on Callaghan’s neck. All he would have to do is slide that hand around to his nape and pull him the rest of the way in to finally close the distance between their mouths. And maybe, just maybe if they were alone, he might be brave enough— but they’re not, and he isn’t, and he retracts his hand before he has a chance to leave it there too long. His heart gives an unexpected lurch when Callaghan seems to tilt his head fractionally towards his retreating grip, almost like— almost like—

But no. He’s just shifting his weight, his eyes lowering to the floor, his breathing slow and even with concentrated effort. Tadashi sits back, averting his gaze in the same way, almost sheepish for making eye contact in the first place. It’s still not quite enough distance, so he clambers to his feet— but then he’s too far away, so he reaches down to offer Callaghan his hand. 

“C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get you hydrated.” 

Callaghan accepts his grip and lets Tadashi haul him upright, where they stand too close for just a second before they each take a step back at the same time. It’s funny, but Callaghan seems almost equally dazed by what just happened between them. He gestures down at the floor as though it’s the slope of a mountain that they’ve just scaled together.

“Thank you,” he says. “For the encouragement.”

Tadashi beams at him. “I knew you could do it.”

“Well,” Callaghan laughs and looks away, humbled. “That makes one of us.” 

His gaze happens to pass over Wasabi, who’s still holding the sweater vest— Callaghan latches onto it like someone who desperately needs a distraction, and with one last nod to Tadashi, he turns and moves away to retrieve the garment. Tadashi is left alone to wonder if his feet have come back to the ground yet. He’s only vaguely aware of GoGo coming over to stand next to him, and when she clears her throat, he glances over to see her wearing a smug, satisfied grin. 

“Yeah,” she says. “You’re _welcome_.”

“Ohhhhhhh my god,” Tadashi mumbles. “I hate you so much.”

Honey Lemon saunters up to stand on the other side of him. 

“We know,” she giggles. “We hate you, too.” 

“This was a conspiracy,” he accuses. “You planned this.”

“We… improvised.” GoGo nudges him with her elbow. “You’re welcome.” 

Tadashi groans and buries his face in his hands. 

“Thanks. For _ruining_ my _life_.”

Honey pats him on the back, her voice bright and cheerful. 

“It was our pleasure,” she says. “What are friends for?”

 

 

 

 

____________________end.

**Author's Note:**

> special thanks to [ellen degeneres and milo ventimiglia](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zv54qCUCd_o) for being my partner push-up refs


End file.
